Three years ago, voters in Maine narrowly overturned legislation that would legalize same-sex nuptials in the state. The legislature had passed the bill, and former Democratic governor John Baldacci signed it into law. But in 2009 the economy was bad and the Tea Party was gaining steam (the next year it would usher in a widely derided radical-right governor Paul LePage). A surge of conservative turnout in an off-election year killed the law by public referendum before any couples could step up to the altar.

In the aftermath, marriage-equality foes trumpeted that the tide was beginning to turn against progress toward equal rights for gay and lesbian couples. As a gay man born and raised in Maine, I cringed as opponents like Maggie Gallagher reveled in the possibility that Martin Luther King Jr.’s long arc of the moral universe did not, as it turned out, bend toward justice. “The events of the last few months have put a serious dent in the idea that gay marriage is inevitable,” the National Organization for Marriage boss told the A.P., in a story that was reprinted throughout the state. Writing for New York magazine at the time, I observed that it was fitting that Gallagher—who is from Oregon, went to school in Connecticut, and lives in New York—would so underestimate gay advocates, and the people of Maine. Same-sex couples don’t think that universal marriage equality is inevitable—that’s why they haven’t stopped fighting for it for a single day. And they’ve never given up on the independent-minded voters in states like Maine.

A year ago, I met a young woman asking for signatures at the Oxford County Fair, an annual event near my father and stepmother's house that celebrates animal husbandry, agriculture, and the eating of fried dough. Oxford County is in central Maine, one of the state's redder and less affluent areas. The woman was hoping to get the marriage question back on the ballot—an effort that, less than two years after the issue's first public defeat, seemed to me to be too soon. My friends and I watched as person after person listened politely to her, and then more often than not told her that, no, they would not support the right of gay people to marry the person they love. It wasn't easy to see. In the afternoon I asked her how it was going, and she said, “Only a few people have signed. But everybody listens.”

This time around, what it took was a levelheaded, honest approach from gay advocates to make the case for gay marriage. The ads aired by Equality Maine were respectful, loving, and featured a mix of gay and straight people and religious and secular authorities. They did not resort to misleading statements and childish scare tactics. (How many more ads can we see with gray-scale maps and blood-red scare fonts?) Three years after marriage equality was blocked in Maine, it passed by public referendum by a margin of about six percentage points—the first time that has happened in the United States.

Even with a similar victory in Maryland, and one seemingly on the way in Washington state, plus the defeat of an anti-marriage constitutional amendment in Minnesota, it's not fair to say the tide has turned in America. Thirty-nine states still ban marriage equality by law (9) or in their constitution (30). Only 8 allow it.

But this step toward levelheadedness—the failure of scare tactics like storm-cloud-filled ads and fake conspiracy theories about school and church policies, and the corresponding success of honesty and simple arguments about equality—should be heartening for those in favor of marriage equality. Those voters who were once capable of being spooked by the specter of activist judges (see: George Bush re-election campaign, 2004) and religious persecution are now seemingly less motivated by fear, or their distaste for gay nuptials. Tammy Baldwin, the next senator from Wisconsin, a contested swing state, was just elected the first openly L.G.B.T. member of that body in the history of America. The issues raised from the campaign—from her opponent’s lobbying history, to her own opposition to the Iraq war—proved to be more important than anything about either of their personal lives.

President Obama, back in the White House for another four years, is personally (if not quite yet professionally) in favor of marriage equality. And he’s made landmark advances for L.G.B.T. rights, from refusing to defend DOMA to repealing Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. All of the above adds up to make yesterday a very good day for gay rights. But like the voters who kept their wits about them when pondering the issues, equality advocates are going to have to stay level-headed, too, even in the face of such exciting news. The next steps forward for gay rights may come from future ballot initiatives, or the president, or the Supreme Court. But real, meaningful change will come from men and women showing up at places like the Oxford County Fair, and just hoping people will listen.